Several weeks had elapsed since the conversation in Reginald Clarke's studio. The spring was now well advanced and had sprinkled the meadows with flowers, and the bookshelves of the reviewers with fiction. The latter Ernest turned to good account, but from the flowers no poem blossomed forth1. In writing about other men's books, he almost forgot that the springtide had brought to him no bouquet2 of song. Only now and then, like a rippling3 of water, disquietude troubled his soul.
The strange personality of the master of the house had enveloped4 the lad's thoughts with an impenetrable maze5. The day before Jack6 had come on a flying visit from Harvard, but even he was unable to free Ernest's soul from the obsession7 of Reginald Clarke.
Ernest was lazily stretching himself on a couch, waving the smoke of his cigarette to Reginald, who was writing at his desk.
"Your friend Jack is delightful," Reginald remarked, looking up from his papers. "And his ebon-coloured hair contrasts prettily8 with the gold in yours. I should imagine that you are temperamental antipodes."
"So we are; but friendship bridges the chasm9 between."
"How long have you known him?"
"We have been chums ever since our sophomore10 year."
"What attracted you in him?"
"It is no simple matter to define exactly one's likes and dislikes. Even a tiny protoplasmic animal appears to be highly complex under the microscope. How can we hope to analyse, with any degree of certitude, our souls, especially when, under the influence of feeling, we see as through a glass darkly."
"It is true that personal feeling colours our spectacles and distorts the perspective. Still, we should not shrink from self-analysis. We must learn to see clearly into our own hearts if we would give vitality11 to our work. Indiscretion is the better part of literature, and it behooves12 us to hound down each delicate elusive13 shadow of emotion, and convert it into copy."
"It is because I am so self-analytical that I realise the complexity14 of my nature, and am at a loss to define my emotions. Conflicting forces sway us hither and thither15 without neutralising each other. Physicology isn't physics. There were many things to attract me to Jack. He was subtler, more sympathetic, more feminine, perhaps, than the rest of my college-mates."
"That I have noticed. In fact, his lashes16 are those of a girl. You still care for him very much?"
"It isn't a matter of caring. We are two beings that live one life."
"A sort of psychic17 Siamese twins?"
"Almost. Why, the matter is very simple. Our hearts root in the same soil; the same books have nourished us, the same great winds have shaken our being, and the same sunshine called forth the beautiful blossom of friendship."
"He struck me, if you will pardon my saying so, as a rather commonplace companion."
"There is in him a hidden sweetness, and a depth of feeling which only intimate contact reveals. He is now taking his post-graduate course at Harvard, and for well-nigh two months we have not met; yet so many invisible threads of common experience unite us that we could meet after years and still be near each other."
"You are very young," Reginald replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Ah--never mind."
"So you do not believe that two hearts may ever beat as one?"
"No, that is an auditory delusion18. Not even two clocks beat in unison19. There is always a discrepancy20, infinitesimal, perhaps, but a discrepancy nevertheless."
A sharp ring of the bell interrupted the conversation. A moment later a curly head peeped through the door.
"Hello, Ernest! How are you, old man?" the intruder cried, with a laugh in his voice. Then, noticing Clarke, he shook hands with the great man unceremoniously, with the nonchalance21 of the healthy young animal bred in the atmosphere of an American college.
His touch seemed to thrill Clarke, who breathed heavily and then stepped to the window, as if to conceal22 the flush of vitality on his cheek.
It was a breath of springtide that Jack had brought with him. Youth is a Prince Charming. To shrivelled veins23 the pressure of his hand imparts a spark of animation24, and middle age unfolds its petals25 in his presence, as a sunflower gazing at late noon once more upon its lord.
"I have come to take Ernest away from you," said Jack. "He looks a trifle paler than usual, and a day's outing will stir the red corpuscles in his blood."
"I have no doubt that you will take very good care of him," Reginald replied.
"Where shall we go?" Ernest asked, absent-mindedly.
But he did not hear the answer, for Reginald's scepticisms had more deeply impressed him than he cared to confess to himself.
1 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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2 bouquet | |
n.花束,酒香 | |
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3 rippling | |
起涟漪的,潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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4 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5 maze | |
n.迷宫,八阵图,混乱,迷惑 | |
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6 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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7 obsession | |
n.困扰,无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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8 prettily | |
adv.优美地;可爱地 | |
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9 chasm | |
n.深坑,断层,裂口,大分岐,利害冲突 | |
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10 sophomore | |
n.大学二年级生;adj.第二年的 | |
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11 vitality | |
n.活力,生命力,效力 | |
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12 behooves | |
n.利益,好处( behoof的名词复数 )v.适宜( behoove的第三人称单数 ) | |
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13 elusive | |
adj.难以表达(捉摸)的;令人困惑的;逃避的 | |
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14 complexity | |
n.复杂(性),复杂的事物 | |
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15 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
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16 lashes | |
n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 );鞭子;突然猛烈的一击;急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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17 psychic | |
n.对超自然力敏感的人;adj.有超自然力的 | |
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18 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
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19 unison | |
n.步调一致,行动一致 | |
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20 discrepancy | |
n.不同;不符;差异;矛盾 | |
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21 nonchalance | |
n.冷淡,漠不关心 | |
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22 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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23 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
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24 animation | |
n.活泼,兴奋,卡通片/动画片的制作 | |
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25 petals | |
n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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